


The King, The Witch, and The Mist

by barrochacha



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 23:20:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2288306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barrochacha/pseuds/barrochacha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After 5 years later what Edmund thought as a very rude first encounter, he is reunited with Hermione Granger at Hogwarts. While the Green Mist, the pure evil, lurks in both magical lands, Edmund finds himself as a very popular royal ambassador, mostly due to Susan's pregnancy, and in a very complex situation with the brightest witch of the age. (Before Dawn Treader & Deathly Hollows)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP series or CN series.**

The train station was packed. There were plenty of parents hugging their children and wiping away tears that resembled that miserable day in which Mrs. Pevensie had to send away her own children for their safety. Three years after coronation, Edmund Pevensie still owned a quite clear image of his mother's tearful face in his head. Sitting inside the train, looking out the window, the image became ever crisper, causing him to grunt in guilt and annoyance.

"Edmund, smile. We aren't here for our own good, you know. You'll be handling future negotiations so you need to focus and learn what I do here today." Susan scolded from the opposite seat.

"I can't help it. Train was never a trigger of good memory for me." Edmund muttered.

"Alright. But promise me that you'll get rid of that scowl once we get there." Susan offered a finger for him to lock.

When Edmund reluctantly made his promise, Susan made her trademark, a gentile smile, appear on her lips. She stood with her royal cloak on her arms.

"I'm going to be out for a second."

"Where?" Edmund looked up with desperation. He tried to get that message in his eyes as much as he could.  _Please don't leave me here by myself!_  But Susan simply shook her head and exited, leaving a short comment.

"Don't ever ask a lady where she goes."

Edmund, with a deeper scowl, crossed his arms and looked outside again. A few moments later, there was a knock on the door. He turned around to find a girl his age with bushy, ruddy-brown hair staring at him quite meanly.

"Hello there." She greeted.

"Hello."

"How old are you?" She asked quite frankly.

"Why does that matter to you?" Pretty offended by the girl's outright interrogation, Edmund snapped back.

"This part of the train is not for the first year students, you know. Only sixth to seventh year students or special guests are allowed in here. You look about my age so you should quickly exit and find another seat before it's too late." The girl restlessly spoke.

"Who are you to tell me what to do?" Edmund was now on the full grumpy mode.

"I'm Hermione Granger, soon to be the brightest witch of the age, I'm proud to say." To prove her point, Hermione stuck her nose in the air in an arrogant gesture.

At that moment, somebody called her name from the outside. She quickly turned and shouted some words like "I'm coming!" Before she left, she gave another authoritative glare toward Edmund.

"I've warned." Then she was gone.

This was her first encounter with the great King Edmund the Just, one that she will greatly regret later on.


	2. Chapter 1: Royalty in Reign

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the two book series, meaning HP and CN.

In Hogwarts, 5 years have passed since Edmund's terrible reunion with the train station (which he hoped would never see again once he became the King). Hermione and her fellow friends, Harry and Ron, were no longer immature first year students, but somewhat mature sixth year students. By this time, Hogwarts was in an amiable relationship with Narnia and its rulers. It was mostly Queen Susan who came yearly and stayed for a week or so to plant good impression about Narnia into the minds of the magical students, who could become valuable allies later on.

The weirdest thing of all was that when the Old Kings and Queens of Narnia were in England, Hogwarts' time flowed along with England, and when they were in Narnia, Hogwarts' time would fly the same as Narnia as well. It was truly magical. Thanks to this weird time flow between Hogwarts and the Narnian royalties, Queen Susan, during her visit, never looked abnormal in the eyes of the students and the faculties of the Hogwarts.

On one cool November evening, during the supper banquet, Professor Albus Dumbledore clanged his glass to get his students' attention.

"Students! I have a brief announcement. Today, I have received a news from Narnian court that due to an inevitable reason, Queen Susan the Gentle will not be able to delight us with her visit this year."

At his words, a lot of male students could not hide their disappointments, for Queen Susan's beauty rivaled that of beauxbatons students.

"However, we also received an honor of having a different royalty coming in her place. I believe he never visited us since five years ago, and he was, then, I dare remember, a brave little man."

Everyone, including the sixth and seventh year students who could hardly call back any memories of a little boy, anticipated Dumbledore's words, whispering here and there, guessing who it could be. The recent history lesson had taught them all that Narnia was now ruled by five kings and queens. If the visitor is "he," then he could not be Queen Lucy, the only remaining female queen after Susan. Thus, the name of Peter, the High King, and Caspian the Tenth started to spread. Professor Dumbledore patiently waited until he was sure that his name was also mentioned. Finally, when students began to whisper the name "Edmund," he cleared his throat to silence them all.

"As many of you have guessed, this coming year, we have the pleasure of meeting King Edmund the Just, Lord of the Western Woods."

Another burst of whisper spread throughout the great hall, for nobody has ever seen the said king. Of course, there were words about his wisdom, great judgment (his title, "the Just," suggested so), his realm over the woodland creatures, and lots of other things. Albus Dumbledore once again cleared his throat to continue.

"His Majesty will visit us during the same season Her Majesty Queen Susan had been visiting, which is this coming month. Please welcome him with the warm, traditional Hogwarts welcome so that we faculties won't be ashamed to represent you all in front of his presence. That is all for tonight."

Then he sat back down. The banquet hall immediately erupted into a mixture of both hushed and excited conversations. Among them was that of the famous trio also.

"Too bad Queen Susan won't be here this year. Wonder why she can't come?" Ron began.

"I don't really mind any other royalties visiting as long as they are nice like her, or, at least, without too much pride." Harry commented. He clearly had Slytherin in his mind, their arrogance of being the pure-bloods of Hogwarts.

"I don't care in any way. It's not like we're going to be talking to them or anything." Hermione quipped in. She kept her gaze at her foods. Truly, she was not interested in the royal visit at all.

"Come on, Hermione. We need Narnia. Haven't you heard what Professor Binns said? The Narnian kings and queens are the only one that could control those centaurs and you know what else." Ron smirked as he casually tossed a berry into his mouth.

"Ron's quite right. According to Professor Binns, the nature itself has been serving them as their sovereign rulers. They could be a great help when we are in wars or something." Harry looked at Ron with a grin.

"Oh, shut up, you two! You know full well that I never miss any of the professors' words! Of course, I know they are essential for future. What I'm saying is, in the end, it is not us, but the professors who leave impression on the Narnian." In annoyance, Hermione ferociously chewed her piece of bread.

"We'll see if King Edmund the Just is any different." Ron, grinning along with Harry, concluded, ignoring Hermione's exasperated grunt.

Edmund was quite depressed when he found out that he was to visit Hogwarts from now on, for the lifetime, not just this one time, because Susan was pregnant with Caspian's child and wanted to focus on nursing the child. It was Peter's order. Of course, at first, not knowing he was tricked with clever words, Edmund agreed to go in behalf of his sister who bore new life now. Then, after fully agreeing with Peter (he thought it was strange how Peter was repeatedly asking for "Yes"), he found out that he agreed to a life-time errand.

From what he remembered many years ago [a.n. Hogwarts time went back when Pevensie's went back to the reality the first time. To Edmund, Hogwarts was what he visited long, long time ago since he was grown up when he returned to reality.], his very first time at Hogwarts was not so pleasant. From the train station to that annoying girl and too many people at welcoming ball (he detested balls), Hogwarts left a very bad impression in his mind. Too bad, it's happening. He told himself. From past lessons, Edmund learned that holding grudge was not a wise idea.

Time flew like arrow for the next several weeks. Edmund was too busy handling all the legal documents of the country that he hardly noticed when the day of departure came. Lucy had to burst into his personal library (he was the only one with a personal one), and thereby greatly annoying him, to remind him that he was to leave in a few hours.

Two centaurs whose name Edmund had not yet learned, Trumpkin, and Pattertwig were to accompany him as well as two Telmarine soldiers who became loyal to the monarchs after the war. Edmund grunted. Peter still thought he needed protection (over-protection), and he was already eighteen! Regardless his disapproval, he thanked the High King and kissed his sisters good bye. There were knowing nods and looks passed between him and Caspian. Finally, he climbed onto his horse, Demetri, and left for the dreaded school of wizardry.

The trip was expected to take about five to six days. Most of the time was spent to cross the Great Plain that separated the lands in which Hogwarts and the New Cair Paravel existed. What Edmund did not expect from the trip was extreme wetness caused by a heavy rain storm. The trip was going to take a bit longer than he expected.


	3. Chapter 2: Delay in Days

Disclaimer and Words of Appreciation: I do not own HP or CN. Thank you all who clicked on the title. Thank you to all those who actually read the story. Double Thanks to the latter group.

The fact was, the weather was not the only delayer of the Edmund's arrival. Even before he got to the Great Plain, Edmund was a day or two late due to his frequent visits to the nearby towns. As the Just King, he felt it as his duty to check up on his people, how they were ruled under the appointed authority, if their lives were generally happy.

When he and his faithful servants finally arrived at the Great Plain, Edmund was about three days behind the schedule (he was supposed to be at Hogwarts two days later). Rain was getting bearable at that moment, and Edmund decided to send a messenger first since it was rude to leave the host hanging with a grand preparation readied for him. He called Pattertwig forward.

"I believe you could cross the Great Plain and the Black Woods in a day, is that right?" Though he knew the answer, Edmund, trying to plant some sense of pride that will speed up the talking animal's journey, asked.

"That is most certainly true, Your Majesty." Pattertwig answered with a knightly bow, a manner he learned from Glenstorm, the great centaur.

"Then do hurry, and go ahead to Hogwarts on your own. Once you're there, convey this message: King Edmund, due to an uncooperative weather, has been delayed. It will take about three days and maybe an afternoon to get to Hogwarts from where he stands. Remember, Pattertwig, talk no more than just this message." Edmund commanded.

Pattertwig with an enthusiastic nod shoot across the tall grass that lay throughout the Great Plain. In a second, not even a rustle of his movement was seen. Edmund, sighing, ordered the centaurs (now he knew them as Blacway and Stonpreek, the two best sons of Glenstorm) to move ahead of him—being the scholars of celestial movement, they knew the directions better. One small part of him was excited because it had been a while since Edmund was allowed to ride Demetri in an unlimited speed. If comparable, his anticipation rivaled that of a teenager who was just given a permission to drive his sports car as fast as he could across an empty land.

The banquet hall of Hogwarts bustled with the energy emitted from the student excitedly feasting. The soft, muffled conversations among the teachers and the ghosts peacefully hovering above seemed normal as always. The peace, however, was quickly broken when Filch hurriedly stumbled forward. His face was pale, and he was gasping loudly. Dumbledore immediately stood from his seat.

"Professor! Professor! There's a talking—"

His sentence was cut short by an abrupt appearance of an abnormally large squirrel. In a dash, it arrived in front of Professor Dumbledore before Filch could. Then it spoke.

"Are you, by any chance, Professor Albus Dumbledore, in charge of Hogwarts School of Witch and Wizardry?" It indeed spoke with acute pronunciation and mannered gestures.

There were numerous sounds of surprised and frightened gasps from the four houses of Hogwarts, but Professor himself seemed not to mind the talking beast at all.

"Yes, it seems so. Perhaps, you could introduce yourself as well? And also express the purpose of this visit?" He calmly answered and questioned the small beast.

"My apologies, Professor, I've lost my decorum due to haste. I am Pattertwig, a messenger from His Majesty, King Edmund the Just. I'm here to convey His Majesty's message." Pattertwig bowed politely. Now there were less frightened whispers around the hall that went like: "Oh Merlin, he is so cute!" "Poor thing, it's all wet!"

"Well, Sir Pattertwig, what is this message that His Majesty sends?"

"King Edmund, due to an uncooperative weather, has been delayed. It will take about three days and maybe an afternoon to get to Hogwarts from where he stands. Or where he stood. Since it took me a day to arrive at Hogwarts, His Majesty must be only two days away." Pattertwig smartly announced.

Dumbledore stroke his long, graceful beard. "Then His Majesty would be here a day later the promised date, which, considering the weather, is absolutely understandable."

Pattertwig, grimly nodding his head, thoughtlessly remarked.

"Also, His Majesty's love for his people made him stop on every little town we've passed—"

Then he abruptly stopped himself, just remembering Edmund's command not to say any other words about the delay. He stole a glance at Dumbledore who met his glance with a kind and amused smile.

"Please forget what I just said, I beg you. His Majesty will not be pleased if he finds out I talked without his permission, rather, against his order, which certainly won't end well for—"

His nervous and rattled gibberish was paused by Professor's gentle hand.

"Have no fear, my little friend. Your loyal heart cannot lie of the great deeds your king has done and is proud to share the tale at any time. There is no fault. And I won't speak of your words so do not worry." He generously spoke to the fidgeting squirrel.

Pattertwig noticeably relaxed at his words and bowed again. "Your words are the most comforting. I thank you for your kindness, Professor. Now I have to return to His Majesty and accompany him 'till the end."

"Be safe, my friend."

With Dumbledore's last words, the squirrel, once again, dashed away, disappearing through the large door through which he entered the banquet hall.

"Is that a squirrel talking?" Ron whispered to his friends in disbelief. His eyes were opened to its greatest extent in surprise.

"Yes, you apeth! Probably from Narnia." Hermione quickly filled in.

Harry just looked at the animal and said nothing. Once again, Ron spoke up. Among the three, he was the closest to the talking squirrel.

"It seems that the king will be a day or so late." He said "king" with a slight sense of mockery. When Pattertwig began his gibberish, Ron stopped listening and turned back toward his friends with a disdainful scoff. "He probably did that on purpose."

"Did what?" Now suddenly curious, Hermione asked.

"The only message that this squirrel was supposed to convey was that the king was going to be late because of bad weather, but that squirrel just accidentally blurted out that the king is late because he is being the good king he is and is looking over the towns as he is passing them by, as if he wanted to keep that a secret from us." He once again scoffed, not hiding his sarcasm.

"You know, it could be true. What the squirrel said, I mean." Harry quietly commented as he meaninglessly poked his food with a fork.

"Sure, Harry, whatever." Ron muttered.

Hermione kept her silence this time. She briefly pondered about the matter and soon concluded that maybe this monarch was not too bad after all. She could tell that the squirrel was not acting (can squirrel act?) and that Ron was just a bit jealous. She did not particularly look forward to the day of the king's arrival, but now she did not particularly dreaded the day of his arrival.


	4. Chapter 3: Arrival and Awes

Disclaimer: I do NOT own HP series or CN series (though I love reading them both). Once again, thank you all for either clicking or actually reading my story.

Demetri was a non-talking horse, but it ran almost as fast as Edmund's former talking horse, Philip. By noon of the second day (from the Great Plain, that is), Edmund and his company had crossed half of the Black Woods. Now he was sweeping past the lighter part of the forest, hearing the trees' greetings here and there. Edmund's hair and cloak were still wet due to the light spray of rain that still lingered (along with horrible humidity). His crown was temporarily carried by Trumpkin—Trumpkin's sack, to be exact—for its own safety.

Edmund felt his energy draining away. Riding a horse non-stop for two days was a huge energy consuming exercise. He knew, by the slightly slowing down of pace, that Demetri was also getting tired. If Demetri, a battle horse, was getting tired, then it meant the other three horses, not counting the centaurs, that each carry a full grown man, (Trumpkin was fully grown) must be extremely tired. Once the party gets to Hogwarts, the horses would not be able to move for several days. Edmund sighed with concern for the horses.

The long and tiring trip made the men go mute. Nobody spoke any words unless there were rough winds scraping the eyes or branches smacking foreheads that caused short exclamations. It changed a bit after the ever cheerful Pattertwig rejoined them, but it was very true to say that everyone was equally relieved when the giant stone castle, the Hogwarts itself, appeared beyond the trees.

When the calculated date of King Edmund's arrival came, everyone bustled with anticipation in the great hall. It was an early afternoon, and students gathered around the tables with their favorite people, waiting for the king's arrival so that they could start eating. Then they heard the most majestic sound. It was sort of like a war horn, but more grand in volume and graceful in tone. Dumbledore raised himself from his seat and, as the rest of the faculty followed his example, walked forward to stand in front of the podium.

Filch first appeared, opening the gate. Then, with swords held high in their hands, the two centaurs, Blacway and Stonpreek marched in, Trumpkin (Pattertwig on his shoulder) close behind. All of them were quite wet. A tall man with a dark blue cloak that covered his entire body and his head as well walked in after the three exotic beings, followed by two most humanly looking men (among them all). The last two people held red flags or panels with the royal emblem of Narnia, a golden lion roaring.

Students, not able to see the cloaked man's face, mumbled things in modest fears because not until recently, the centaurs were thought as evil creatures to them. Edmund, at this point, was too exhausted to remember to lift up his hood to reveal his face. His cloak was still wet, and he doubted his hair was able to dry in the heavily moisturized air. The rest of his company was not far too better either. Overall, the royal party was dark and evil in appearance.

Albus Dumbledore took quick steps toward the king as the centaurs parted into opposite directions at the front of the hall. He glanced toward the veiled face.

"King Edmund?"

Edmund, now only few steps away from the podium, remembered to take off his hood. His back was still turned against the students (some of the most curious one started to crane their necks to see his face). He gave a polite smile to the elderly wizard and nodded.

"That is I. Pleasure to meet you again, Professor." He was pulled into a hug by Dumbledore then.

So far, Ron Weasley's disdain toward the king had only increased. He did not like the dark aura one bit, and those centaurs! All the less reason to dislike the leader of those creatures, he thought.

Harry, on the other hand, was tensed more than ever. He had an imaginary memory of meeting the dark creatures in the Forbidden Forest. He had never seen a centaur in real life so he wondered why there was such an intimidating and familiar feeling to them.

Hermione only briefly eyed the centaurs and the dwarf before returning to her constant forking. As usual, Ron started their quiet conversation.

"I hope he's not like another dark lord or something." He muttered.

Hermione raised her eyebrow. "What do you mean 'another'? We have no records of 'dark lords' in our history, Ron."

It was true. Greatly confused himself, Ron opened his mouth, closed it, and just shrugged. "That just came out. I don't know where I got that."

That was when King Edmund finally turned around.

There were cries of joy, actually, more like shrieks of joy, from the female Hogwarts students. From their point of view, the description of the king was as follows: Whether it was the moisture or it was the king's mood, no one knew, but, under the dim light of candles, King Edmund's face consisted only of two colors—pale (very very pale) peach and onyx. His hair, wet but not too wet, looked almost black and matched the color of his brows and eyes. His skin appeared very clean despite the long trip, almost even sparkling to the eyes of young girls. His cloak, now slightly forced behind him, revealed his royal armor, the same symbol from the flag also apparent on the front. He had a handsome sword (in its equally handsome sheath) on his dark leather belt, and his long leather boots that came right up to his knees just completed the Prince Charming look. The girls were absolutely delighted. At that moment, they all had the same thought, now we get some nice view! That is, all but except one, the brightest witch of the age, Hermione Granger.

When she first looked at the handsomely formed face of the king, she was caught unexpectedly by a sudden feeling of familiarity. She had seen that face before. She kept staring for that reason, which was mistaken as an action of admiration by Ron.

If Ron's emotion toward the unseen king was called "disdain" before, now it was pure "dislike." Why can't Queen Susan be here again? He asked in silence. Instead, he looked at Hermione, who was still trying to figure out the queer familiarity, and asked. "Is this how girls felt whenever Queen Susan visited?"

Hermione, not leaving her glance from the king's face, shrugged. "Maybe. I never think the same as them, you know."

"What are you thinking now, then?" Ron, furrowing his brows, asked.

"I'm thinking I've seen him before but can't remember when." Hermione calmly answered, finally taking off her eyes.

Harry, who was quietly listening, suggested. "You know, Professor Dumbledore said that King Edmund had visited Hogwarts before. Was it five years ago?" He turned toward Ron and asked for confirmation.

Ron just scoffed and muttered "why should I care?" but Harry's words caused a spark in Hermione's head.

"Oh, dear Merlin, no." She vigorously shook her head all the while ducking it low.

"What is it?" Worried, Harry quickly looked at her direction.

"He's that boy! He's the boy that I tried to chase out of the very front carriage of the train that day!" She shouted in a whisper.

At her words, Ron exclaimed also in a whisper. "What?!"

"Good Godric, I told him he wasn't supposed to be there, and now I know that he had the full right to be there!" She covered her face with her hands in despair. "I even told him my name and that I was going to be the brightest witch of the age! This is going to be the most humiliating experience ever."

While Ron just watched her with his mouth wide open, Harry patted her back in reassurance.

"Don't worry, Hermione. That was five years ago. You hardly remembered about it yourself. He probably doesn't remember it at all."

"Do you think so?" Hermione, trembling, raised her head and looked at Harry with hope.

"I'm sure." Harry with a tight smile on his lips nodded.

Oh, only if Edmund had really forgotten about that day's incident!

Author's Note: A link for the image I used for Edmund's look in this chapter (if any of you is ever curious) is written on my profile. There were two, each from Ron and Harry. If you think you've got it, do not hesitate to let me know your answer (even if you're wrong, I won't bite, I promise).


	5. Chapter 4: Lost and Looming

Disclaimer: I do not own HP or CN.

Words of Appreciation: Thank you for reading. Thank you for your reviews Cosette24601!

Lastly, Author's Note: For background music, I would suggest any of Ludovico Einaudi's songs. My top 5 picks would be Primavera (of course), I Giorni (this would be perfect song for Edmund/Hermione interactions), Fairytale (the name says it all), Ora (this is just my personal favorite) and last but not least, Solo (a fast and furious version is called Nightbook—I like Nightbook better sometimes)—divenire is a really wonderful song but it doesn't quite go with my story. You know what? Whatever, just choose ANY of Einaudi's music. Every single one of them is amazing.

Edmund was not in a pleasant mood. The trip was long and exhausting. He was wet, and the armor was getting heavier after every moment. All the more reason to not fail, he thought as he smiled toward the mass of students in front of him. Nothing changed since the last time he visited. All students were divided into four different sections, each section with the house symbol above them.

"Remember never to favor any particular house when you're there." Susan had said.

Edmund was aware of the tensions between the houses and the importance of his neutrality at Hogwarts. While he quickly observed the location and general characteristics of the four houses, Trumpkin, in his deep voice, formally introduced him to them all.

"His Majesty, King Edmund the Just, Duke of Lantern Waste, Count of the Western March, Knight of the Noble Order of the Table, and the Lord of the Great Western Wood."

When Edmund offered a small bow to no one in particular, Trumpkin placed the crown in its proper place. King Edmund, he was. In his best regal manner, Edmund greeted the students.

"I'm terribly sorry to appear in such an inappropriate form and for having you all wait another day due to my delay." He turned toward Dumbledore who was standing by his side. "I am ever grateful for your hospitality, Professor."

Professor bowed and quietly replied, "My pleasure, Your Majesty."

Edmund turned toward the audience once again. "I hope you aren't too upset that I came instead of Queen Susan." He almost gave a sheepish smile that made girls, oblivious to the fact that it was all planned, whisper/exclaim "He is shy! That is too cute!"

Keeping his pretentious smile tightly on his lips, Edmund continued to finish his greeting words. "I look forward to the rest of my stay at Hogwarts. I'm sure that, as kind and wonderful you all are, you will make it a memorable experience for me."

Covering most of her face with her hands, Hermione spied the king through her fingers. After the shock of realizing the past fault passed away, she was now able to really notice the decent look of the king. She tried to compare the young boy she just remembered to the presently standing proud man. His face was leaner but the brows, eyes, nose and lips all had the same particular shape to them. It was as if somebody just slightly stretched the young boy (vertically, of course) and sprayed some mature aura on him. He can't be too far from my age, Hermione considered.

During the dwarf's oration of the king's titles, the frequency of Ron's grunts and scoffs increased. "I don't remember hearing all those names when Queen Susan was here."

Harry furrowed his brows at Ron. "That's because she had no particular ones, Ron. What's wrong? Why are you keep grunting and making weird noises?" He asked in a hushed voice. King Edmund was talking.

"I'm not making any weird noises. It's just all ridiculous." Ron grunted again.

"I think you're just jealous. Don't be." Right after Harry finished these words, Professor Dumbledore clanged his glass and announced the feast to begin.

Conversations exploded everywhere. Harry, partly relieved not having to talk so quietly, sighed. He watched as King Edmund was led to an elegant chair beside Dumbledore's seat. His men (and centaurs) were led to several empty spots of a table on the side. Ron and Hermione were both wordlessly eating. Not able to stand the silence, he spoke out.

"So what are we up to?"

Ron glanced up at him then stared back down at his food. "We'll going to need ball gowns. Professor Dumbledore will have a welcoming ball again." He did not sound as excited as he was last year when the ball was for Queen Susan.

Hermione chuckled a bit. "Don't worry, Ron. Your party attires are getting gradually better."

Harry chuckled along at her remark. Ron just glared at the two playfully and rolled his eyes. "Mother finally understood that I'm old enough to pick my own clothes." That led to all three of them mildly laughing. As the laughing decreased, Ron looked at Hermione and advised, "I guess you don't want to look beautiful at this ball if you don't want to be noticed by the oh, glorious! King."

Since the Yule Ball, Hermione has never looked less than "beautiful," according to the other students. In fact, she became quite popular after every ball Hogwarts had, but due to Ron's preclusion of any male's affectionate approach, Hermione never knew how attractive she became—or she pretended not to know (Harry was sure that she had some sense of it all).

Hermione blushed at the emphasized "beautiful" but frowned at Ron's sarcastic tone. Harry just shook his head at Ron's sudden bad temper. Harry knew that Ron had some kind of romantic feeling toward Hermione but was too proud to speak of it first. He also knew that Ron was the one who blocked all those male students trying to chat up with Hermione for the past couple of years. He saw it happen in the library once.

"Hermione is not here. Get out." Ron ordered quite sternly.

The other boy scoffed. "She's right there behind you, you maggot. What are you in the first place?"

Indeed, Hermione was just several feet away, totally absorbed in her reading. Harry was reading by her side until he decided to look for a different book and left. On his way back, he found himself sort of eavesdropping the conversation.

"How about this? She doesn't have a time for a blighter like you. And as for me, I'm a person who, for certain, knows that you aren't good enough for her at all." Harry never knew that Ron could speak so smartly. There were some more ugly words that were passed to each other afterwards, but in the end, the boy (who was a Slytherin anyway) left with an extremely red face.

That day's account was still fresh in his mind. It was also the reason why Harry started to act carefully around Hermione when Ron was also present. He did not want to upset his best friend. The saddest thing was that Harry could not feel the same nervous, romantic feeling from Hermione. Hermione was not romantically attracted to Ron at all, at least, as far as Harry could observe.

As the feast continued inside the grand castle of Hogwarts, an unknown fog seeped in from the Forbidden Forest. It was sickly green in appearance and more of a mist than a fog. Like a snake, it crawled across the wet ground, intertwining to obstacles like suffocating a prey. It was an embodiment of a pure evil.

The peculiar time flow of Hogwarts was once explained—it flowed with that of the Pevensies. When the Pevensies, after their fifteen years of reign during their first visit to Narnia, returned to England, to their former young selves, Hogwarts time flew back as well. Voldemort was long gone dead, so he could not come back (how Dumbledore came back is a mystery, even to the author, but assuming that his spirit was alive—helped Harry to fight Voldemort during the killing curse—and his body was physically unharmed, it seems possible).

The thing was, if there was a good, then there had to be a bad. No one can have a happy ending forever. However the cruelty, that was the law of the reality. When Voldemort, the purest evil of that time, was not able to fulfill this simple rule of the world anymore, a new form of evil that contained every bits of malice and depression of this world appeared: the Green Mist.

Author's Note (Yes, again): Tada! So that's what I was talking about. Harry thought he was imagining remembering the centaurs, but it was just a bit of his real memory that was forgotten when the time went back. Ron, for the same reason, without realizing, said "another" dark lord. That was the secret!


	6. Chapter 5: Meeting the Mates

Author's note: I do NOT own any of the series I burrow the characters and the setting from. Thanks for the reviews, favs, and follows. Enjoy.

Edmund's first few days at the Hogwarts was not so bad at all. With Dumbledore's graceful help, an owl always delievered him a package of documents to look at. Thus, no longer did he complain that he was forced away from his duty. He mostly spent his time in his appointed room, certainly a luxurious one, or on the bench near a pond outside the castle. He would lay back on the bench with his casual blouser and pants. Edmund noticed that the students often came out to watch him—though he never got what sort of spectacle he would be. He did not know that in the eyes of the young, hopeful girls (witches, to be exact), he looked as dreamy as a unicorn under a rainbow.

This, of course, became the cause of Ron's ever more discomfort toward the king. The trio had to walk across the yard in order to get to the correct lecture room. While they walked, Hermione noticed that a lot of girls, in groups of twos or threes, sat on the downward slope and stared at something with a sparkle in their eyes. Hermione followed their gaze, only to find the dreaded king she so longed to forget. As she so suddenly ducked her body low, hiding between Harry and Ron—thus, causing Ron to blush—she made known of the king's presence to the other two as well. After Ron was done staring at Hermione's arm twined with his and got rid of his ridiculous blush, he saw the king going through his pile of documents and looking professional as ever.

"I don't see why girls are so over him." Ron's brows were furrowed, as if it became a natural instinct to do so at the sight of Edmund.

Harry grinned a little at Ron. "I think he quite deserves the attention. He has the look and the title. Now we see that he also has a character, and an attractive one!" He meant is as a joke, though all of his words were true, but Ron's face turned even more unpleasant at Harry's answer.

Before Ron could fully scowl, Hermione stood up straight. "This is stupid. He probably doesn't even remember me. I have no reason to hide. Yes, it's quite embarrassing that I said and acted as such then, but when you're young, you tend to do things that are quite stupid. I have no reason to hide." She breathlessly finished as if to cast a spell on herself.

Ron enthusiastically nodded, and Harry just patted her on the back lightly. Thus, passed their first day after the king's arrival.

The fact was, Edmund still remembered that there once was a rude girl named Hermione Granger who dared to talk so crudely to the royalty, not because he was a pathetic little wimp who holds grudge against every offense thrown upon him and waits for a perfect revenge, but because he had an exceptional memory. But this particular fact did not influence Edmund to do something related to the girl. First of all, he did not like to waste his time. Second of all, it was a long time ago. Lastly, it did not cause him any drastic tragedy than a mere annoyance. That, he could tolerate.

So when he was lying on the bench, reading the endless amount of legal documents, a task he truly enjoyed doing, Edmund was not planning anything related to the rude little girl from the train so many years ago. Except, he heard the name.

"Miss Hermione Granger!" It was one of the professors.

Edmund looked up, amused by the situation just begging for him to notice the familiarity, and found an aged woman, the professor that called, he guessed, approaching a group of three students with Gryffindor uniforms. The three now faced the professor, so he couldn't see their faces, but a particular type of hair caught his attention.

The middle one had a ruddy brown hair, so bushy, one would have mistaken it as a broom from afar. Edmund snorted a small laugh (causing Trumpkin to look back with a weird stare). He noticed that her hair, compared to then, was a bit calmer in appearance, as if she actually attempted to brush it now and then. He remembered her words that day.

"I'm Hermione Granger, soon to be the brightest witch of the age, I'm proud to say."

The brightest witch of the age, she said? Edmund thought. We'll see how true a prophet she was.

So when the professor was done talking to the group, or to a member of the trio, Edmund, while pretending to read his documents, watched as they turned around. The girl was quite grown but still owned the parts of her face as a child. Overall, she was pretty (though Edmund would say "not ugly"). The boys that escorted her on both sides were somewhat plain. The boy on the left had hair as black as Edmund's and wore glasses. He was too far off to tell the definite color of his eyes, but it was certain that they were lighter than black. The other boy who stood a bit awkwardly on the right had fiery red hair, and due to their numerosity, Edmund could tell that there were freckles on his face. They were talking all so brightly that Edmund had a sudden twist in his disposition to ruin their mood. He sat straight, documents still in his hand. Trumpkin, again, looked back to question, but before he could do so, Edmund called out.

"Hey! Over there!" He waved a little.

All the peaceful strollers (some pretending to be one in desire to watch the king) and the trio, looked at him, their eyes wide open like a threatened meerkat. Edmund looked straight at Hermione and nodded. "Yes, you!"

He noticed she turned slightly pale and murmured something to her friends by her side. Edmund waved for her to come forward, not letting his pretentious, gentle smile leave his lips. The boy with black hair said something to her and patted her on the back. The red-haired boy glared at him. The boy's hatred toward him was so apparent that Edmund was mildly amused. He patiently waited as the three walked toward him. Several students watched from not so far off. When they were about a yard away, Edmund noticed that the girl was actually "not ugly" at all. She was...very pleasant to the eyes, if only she would take good care of her hair!

When they thought it was appropriate to stop and ask for the purpose of the summon, they did stop, and the boy with black hair and glasses spoke first. "Your Majesty, though it pleases us greatly that you have called us to your presence, may we ask why you have asked us to?"

"I think it a better manner to introduce yourselves, please?" Edmund, still hanging onto his good-natured smile, asked.

All three of them (except Ron who was sort of reluctant) bowed their heads apologetically and answered Edmund's demand one by one.

"My name is Harry Potter, Your Majesty, a sixth year student in the House of Gryffindor." The raven-haired boy said.

The targeted girl announced next. "Hermione Granger, also a sixth year student of Gryffindor, Your Majesty." Edmund pretended not to notice how her words seem to tremble a little at the end.

Lastly, the hateful ginger boy spoke. "Ronald Weasley, a sixth year of Gryffindor as well." Edmund noticed a hidden grunt in the boy's words but ignored it.

"Nice to meet you all. I just wanted to ask for the ideas and suggestions of the wise students of Hogwarts. Do you see this pile of work?" Edmund pointed at the documents and a few rolls of confidentiality stacked/placed neatly by the bench he laid. "I have an evening to solve them all, but I've been, oh!, so miserably stuck on this one problem." He quite jokingly and dramatically waved a couple of documents that were in his hands. "Will you please help me out, my good friends?"

Inwardly, Ron snorted so hard at the words "my good friends" that he could been lifted from the ground. Hermione had her eyes on the ground, not daring to look up in fear that the king might notice her. Harry nervously smiled as if nothing was wrong. Ron knew everything was wrong. Why is this king so young? Why couldn't Queen Susan come? Why does this king have to look so charming? Above all, Ron was mad because he sensed somehow that the king was playing with them. He did not need their help in solving any of the politics. Probably, Ron thought.

King Edmund explained the political dispute he was stuck with to solve, but none of the words rightfully flowed into Ron's head. They went through one ear and out the other. Ron's mind bubbled with impossibly ridiculous anger.

"I'm afraid that we won't be of any help, Your Majesty." Harry finally managed to end the matter quickly.

King Edmund displayed a face of disappointment (not sincere at all, is he? Ron asked himself). Hermione also quietly chirped in. "We're terribly sorry, Your Majesty."

The king good-heartedly laughed. "Don't mind, my friends. It was my task from the start. I still thank you for your presence. You may leave as you want."

Hermione inwardly let out a deep sigh of relief. Thank goodness, he doesn't remember! When the three turned around and walked few steps away from the king, a voice made her freeze in her spot.

"Though I am a bit disappointed to hear it from the brightest witch of the age."

Hermione turned around just in time to witness the wicked smile on the king's lips that immediately turned gentle like before. There was only one thought in her head.

Bloody Hell.


	7. Chapter 6: After Talk

Disclaimer: I do not own both of the series.

Hermione's mind went blank. She turned around in her rigid position. Harry and Ron, fortunate enough to not catch Edmund's last few words (they heard him say something but couldn't tell what exactly he said), puzzledly glanced at Hermione. Harry, again, patted her, this time, on the shoulder, but she could not feel, hear, or think properly for the moment. What to do? What now? These were the only thoughts that panically floated around.

Finally, her mind made, Hermione gripped on Harry and Ron's robes. Then, with the mightiest force she has ever used, she ran. Harry and Ron, surprised, trailed behind (more like dragged along).

Edmund, still with that gentle smile, watched the girl's reaction. He wanted to laugh out loud because he was so satisfied, but he held himself. He laid back down on the bench and returned to flickering through the documents. Trumpkin just shook his head.

"I don't know what that was about, but I see that you haven't been able to fix your habit of wicked teasing, Your Majesty."

"Oh, shut up." Edmund lightly snorted.

By this time, Trumpkin and Edmund were more than a mere servant and a king. They were friends. As Trumpkin accompanied Edmund around the places back in Narnia, he noticed that Edmund could be a little imp as well as a dignified king. He saw more than plenty of times how Edmund's lips twisted up a little into a mischievous curve. A moment ago was such an occasion. The "wicked smile" Hermione witnessed, that is.

"Don't be too vicious this time." Trumpkin carelessly warned. He always said this sort of thing, but of course, Edmund always did what he did.

"Don't worry, that was just a bit spontaneous. I was bored, and they looked happy." Edmund monotonously answered.

Trumpkin snorted. "And that's a perfectly fine reason to start a fight?"

"I wasn't starting anything. She actually owes me that moment." Edmund protested. Only when he was playfully arguing with Trumpkin did he show his childish side of personality.

"Oh, and how is that so?" Trumpkin asked with a raised brow.

"She once spoke very rudely to me, a royalty then and now. She actually tried to shoo me out of my carriage." His eyes still on the parchment, Edmund explained. "She should be thankful that I only ended it there." He huffed a bit.

"And that poor girl won't be able to pass this way from now on." Trumpkin dramatically remarked.

Edmund grunted at his words. "Oh, just stop. I wouldn't like to talk to her again anyway."

Trumpkin rather softly responded. "You don't know that for sure."

Ron watched as Hermione's face turned redder and redder. Her breaths were short due to the abrupt running, and the always-neatly-worn robe was now wrinkled and ruined by the wind. Harry was gasping for breath as well.

"Why were we running?" Ron questioned. "What did he say?"

Harry looked at Hermione, demanding the same answer.

"Bloody, bloody hell! He knows me!" Hermione shouted.

"What?" Harry and Ron both exclaimed at the same time.

"He, he said, it was disappointing to hear it from the brightest witch of the age!" Hermione finally buried her face into her hands. If not, she felt as if her face would blow up and burst.

"What does that have to do with anything? Every body calls you that." Harry tilted his head in confusion.

"He doesn't know that! and I told you before! I told him that I was going to be the brightest witch of the age back then when I tried to get him out of the carriage!" Hermione paced to here and there as she spoke.

As her words were rapidly flown out from her mouth, Ron and Harry passed a look of realization and could not stop their mouths from enlarging.

"He's not going to kill you, is he?" Ron carefully inquired.

"Of course not, you bloke!" Hermione spat angrily. Then she turned around, shaking her head violently. "I'm sorry. I hope he won't. I guess a just king wouldn't kill a person for their past mistake?"

Harry, all the while, watching the ruckus happening before him, finally spoke. "Calm down you too. I don't think he was too serious of it all." At his words, both Ron and Hermione looked up and stared at him. Harry carried on with his thoughts. "Maybe he heard that there was a girl who was called the brightest witch of the age before from somebody. If not, he must have been teasing. Or else, he would have accused you right then and there."

Hermione nodded a little. Though it was very unlikely that the former guess could be true, she wanted to believe that it wasn't that the king remembered her past breach of manner. Even if it wasn't the case, Hermione was determined to think positively.

"Alright. Whatever. What happened it what happened. I'm going to pretend that he heard my title from somewhere as." She concluded.

"Good thought." Ron encouraged. He really did not like to have another meeting with the king. He felt too inferior when his majesty was present. Harry nodded as well by his side.

Hermione, pacing once again, asked. "But what if he would like to talk about it? Should I keep acting like I've never done such act? What if he tells Professor Dumbledore?"

It was obvious that her mind was still clouded with worries. Ron's own was darken by resentment. He could not tell what was coming over him, but something kept nudging him into thoughts of rage and hatred. He feared himself with such emotions, but he kept it to himself. He did not want to be cared by Hermione (or Harry, in fact) as a helpless friend.

What Ron, Hermione, Harry, and even Edmund did not know was that the Green Mist was already in Hogwarts. It occupied deeply in corners and cracks of the castle, yet no one, not even Dumbledore, was able to detect that something serious was brewing within. In every chance it got, the Mist clouded the hearts of the students (very often, those of Slytherin) and planted the seed of all kinds of hateful emotions. One drop of water, a catalyst, and those seeds would bloom into dreary consequences.

Author's note: This chapter is a bit short, sorry. But I really didn't have the time... T_T


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